


Connor

by GeorginoschkaVincen



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorginoschkaVincen/pseuds/GeorginoschkaVincen
Summary: Connor is trying his best to come to terms with being a deviant. It is a difficult path but he is trying his best.However, things are a lot more complex than first anticipated; with a certain program trying to destroy him from the inside while crimes involving androids are waiting to be solved, trying to stay alive sure remains a challenge.And then there is - of course - the never ending issue of the government trying to come to terms with accepting androids...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> Most of the tags are relevant for later chapters. The rating will most likely go up.  
> The main focus is on Connor and his inner struggles as well as his relationship with Hank.  
> Connor might be acting a bit ooc in this prologue but that is only due to the context of that part. It plays right after he reunites with Hank. The rest of the story will play a little after.

It is snowing. 

The sun is starting to rise, casting a soft glow onto the white streets.  
  
A magical moment.  
  
Probably.  
  
Maybe.  
  
He is not sure.  
  
He is sitting on the small space in front of the window, his gaze directed outside while holding the coin between his fingers,moving it in a slow and steady pace. He knows these tricks in and out.  
  
Knows them because he has been programmed to perform them without a flaw.  
  
Probably.  
  
Maybe.  
  
He is not sure.  
  
The house is quiet,but he knows Hank is in the living room with Sumo. The walls are thin enough that he can hear those two moving around. He knows Hank wants to talk, knows that he is waiting for him to come out of the bedroom.  


Talking would be the only logical thing to do right now, but somehow his body refuses to co-operate.  
  
His mind feels blank but at the same time he cannot stop thinking about what happened, about what is going to happen.  
  
** [∆] leave room  
[X] stay **   
  
Once again, Connor decides against leaving. The two options have been showing up in an one hour interval for the past twenty-four hours now,but he always chose to stay.  
  
Connor does not want to.  
  
He does not want to leave the room.  
  
He does not want to leave the house.  
  
He hugs his knees tighter to his body, his chin resting on one knee while his hand continues to play with his coin.  
  
A knock against the door.  
  
Connor does not need to scan the door to know that it is Hank. Sumo cannot use his paws to knock against doors,after all.  
  
Or, maybe he can.  
  
Connor is not sure.  
  
"Connor? I'm coming in."  
  
The door opens, Hank enters the room. Connor does not look up.  
  
"Connor."  
  
Hank sounds tired.  
  
"You wanna talk now?"  
  
** [∆] answer  
[X] stay quiet **   
  
Connor really wants to talk. But it does not work, no matter how many times he tries to enter the command.  
  
It just does not...work.  
  
He does not work.  
  
He does not-  
  
Hank is standing in front of him now, his arms crossed in front of his chest.  
  
"Connor, I know this is difficult-" he tries, but pauses, and finally sighs heavily.  
  
"Fuck. I am not good at this."  
  
Silence.  
  
Connor's coin stops.  
  
"Listen-" Hank tries again. "You've been sitting here for a day now. I know you don't need to eat and all that shit, but I am pretty sure that's not healthy - even for an android."  
  
Attempt at comfort detected  
  
Connor hugs his knees tighter,his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.  
  
** [∆] talk  
[∆] talk  
[∆] talk  
**   
He tries so very hard to follow the command, mentally presses down on the command key, almost smashing it.  
  
Why is it so...difficult?  
  
Why is everything suddenly so difficult?  
  
Suddenly there is a hand on his shoulder. Connor's head moves quickly, his body stiff, ready to lash out-  
  
It's just Hank.  
  
Of course it is just Hank.  
  
Connor catches a quick glimpse of his red LED in the reflection of the mirror.  
  
"Hey." Hank's voice is unusual soft "Hey. Calm down. It's all good."  
  
Yes.  
  
Hank is right.  
  
Everything is good.  
  
Connor takes a deep breath. He does not need to breathe, but it helps him to calm down.  
  
"Yes." he finally answers and forces a smile.  
  
He does not want Hank to worry about him.  
  
"Yes, sorry I-" he clears his throat. A human gesture. He does not need to do it, but does it anyway. "- I was scanning my system for errors."  
  
His voice is steady, cheerful. It is easy to fake emotions, at least if it comes to displaying them on his face.  
  
His face is directed towards Hank, but he is not looking at him. He is looking past him, somewhere else.  
  
"I apologize. I was distracted."  
  


A smile.  
  
Hank is not smiling back. He looks so tired.  
  


"Connor, you're a big fucking idiot. You can't fool me with that fake smile. I know that something is bothering you."  
  
Connor's smile does not falter, but inside he feels a stab of-  
  


Of what?  
  
What emotion is this?  
_   
Fear? Worry?Shame? _   
  


"I am sorry?" he tilts his head. "I do not think I understand what-"  
  
"For fucks sake!" Hank raises his arms over his head. Connor flinches a little.  
  
"I know a troubled person when I see one, and I'm not saying that because your stupid LED is red but because I know that face you make when you're thinking about some deep shit."  
  


Connor presses his lips together. He feels...  
  
_ Confused?  
  
Upset? _   
  


"I-I-" Connor stutters. He does not know what to say, and so be remains quiet. He looks away again, in shame, knowing that he is acting irrational, that he is making no sense.  
  
"I apologize. I did not mean to... I did not mean to make you feel upset,Hank."  
  
Hank sighs again and sits down next to Connor.  
  
"I advice you to not sit down." Connor says. "With your current weight there is a eighty-seven precent chance that the sill will break."  
  


Hank blinks, surprised - amused.  
  


"Did you just call me fat?"  
  


Connor turns away, a small smile on his lips.  
  


"Maybe."  
  


Hank huffs an amused laughter. "Wow."  
  


Connor feels bad anyway.  
  


"I did not mean to." he hastily admits. “It is just that our weights combined seem a bit too much for the old wood.”  
  


Hank huffs again and nudges Connor a little.  
  


"It's okay, I can take it."  
  


They sit in silence again. Connor's gaze is directed outside. The snow looks soft.  
  


He knows it is his turn to say something.  
  
****

** [∆] talk **   
  


His eyes are fixed on the road.  
  
"I am scared." he finally says. His voice is soft. He cannot control it.  
  
"I am scared and I do not know why."  
  
His fingers press down harder into his legs. He can register the pressure, and he can feel...

 

_ Pain? _

 

Pain.  
  
"I feel...I feel sorry. For what i did. It is my fault that they found Jericho. I was leading them to it. It has all been part of their plan and I..."  
  
He presses down even harder. His finger hurt. His legs hurt, too. The pain is not unwelcome.  
  
"I do not know if I am welcome anywhere."  
  
His throat feels tight even though there is nothing wrong with his body.  
  
"I cannot control my thoughts. I cannot control my feelings. I-"  
  
He pauses, turns his head slightly.  
  
"I feel lost, Hank. I feel scared. I don't know who I am anymore. I...I do not fit in. I do not fit in anywhere and I-"  
  
He pauses again.

“I am scared. I am scared that I will hurt others without meaning to,again, and I am scared that -”

  


Strong arms wrap around him from behind. Connor's breath stops, his body goes stiff before relaxing into the gesture of comfort.  
  
“Stop worrying.”  
  
Connor wishes it was that easy.  
  
“I am trying to.” he says, softly, his fingers still clawing into his own legs. “But it is... difficult. Everything is so difficult and too much and I do not how to handle this and I-”  
  
Hank hugs him tighter, and Connor stops talking.

 

“Jeeze, Connor! You gotta calm down. You're acting as if you're responsible for everything that happened.”

 

“Well, I -” Connor begins, but Hank interrupts him. “I get that you're overwhelmed by what happened and your emotions and all that kinda stuff. But you gotta pull yourself together again. You want the world to be a better place? Then get your ass out of this room and into the office and start investigating crimes again. And don't tell me that's not what you wanna do because I know how much you like licking things and analysing dead people.”

 

Connor smiles.

 

“There, see. I was right.” Hank teases, and Connor's smile grows a little. “Now get up. I gotta go to work and you're coming with me.”  
  
Hank stands up and Connor follows his example. His legs still hurt but it is okay now.  
  
  
“Actually, you are 30 minutes too late already.” Connor says, and Hank groans.  
  
  
“Jeeze, I didn't pull you out of your depression phase just for you to lecture me on my timing.”  
  
  
Connor almost answers, but he does not. He smiles softly as he watches Hank, who is trying to find a fitting shirt before deciding that he does not care. He grabs one with a very flashy design.

 

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Connor wants to know as they leave the house. “There are many factors that...would speak against me returning to the DPD.”

 

Hank huffs as he opens the door to his car. “Chill. It's gonna be fine. I'll make sure it's gonna be okay.”

 

Connor sits down next to Hank in the car, his legs neatly folded and his hands resting on his knees. He wants to play with the coin, but he does not. He knows it annoys Hank.  
  
Hank does not start the car, and Connor turns is head to look at him.  
  
“Why are we not driving?”  
  
Hank sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Look, if you...If you don't wanna return to the DPD that's fine, too. You're free now, you can do whatever the fuck you want. I don't wanna pressure you to go back, you know.”

 

Connor tilts his head a little. “Hank.” he says, his voice steady. There is no trace left of his insecurity from mere minutes ago. “I love my job. And I know that my place is here, with you-”  
  
At that, Hank looks up from his steering wheel, his eyes wide with surprise.  
  
“I still have a lot to learn. Markus knows what he is doing, I do not. In fact, I feel...safer...in an environment that I am accustomed to.”  
  
  
He pauses, his gaze turned ahead. It is till snowing.  
  
  
“I would love to pick up my old job, if that is possible. I feel that I can be of much more use there than anywhere else.”  
  
  
Hank blinks, dumbstruck by Connor's honest words. It takes a bit for him to regain his words,  
  
  
“ You don't need to be of use to anyone, Connor. You can, like, you know...just...live your life or whatever.”  
  
  
Connor smiles and turns his head to face Hank.  
  
  
“I like _living_ like this." he says, amused. "It is fine.”

 

Hank looks at him and Connor feels there are many questions that he wants to ask, but he just shakes his head and huffs a laughter.  
  
“You really are something, Connor.” he smiles, and turns on the radio.

 

It is a start into something new, and neither of them was aware about the things that were about to unfold.

 

 

 

  
  
  
  


 


	2. The Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first case after the battle of Detroit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took Markus out of the tags because I realized that the story will take different path than I first intended :O  
> However, I added RK900. Sorry for that, pfff.
> 
> This chapter's focus is on the case, the next will focus more on Connor and his internal conflict.

** November 20,2038 **   
  
It takes one week and two days until Connor is allowed to work for the DPD again. Fowler has to put in more than just a few nice words and fills out a lot of paper work to convince his superiors that Connor is an excellent detective and an valuable asset for the team. Connor is immensely grateful for his efforts.  
  
CyberLife is not pleased with the decision, Connor knows that much. They do not want their deviant prototype detective to stir up even more trouble, but they cannot stop him - or anyone else who is helping him. He does not like to think about what they would do to him if they manage to got their hands on him. Even with the public opinion on androids being mostly positive, Connor does not trust CyberLife. They gave him enough reasons not to. And he is not stupid enough to let himself be fooled.  
  
CyberLife has agreed to free the remaining androids in their care, but they sure take their time to follow the demands of the mass. Not all humans agree on the decision the government made. There are still protests being held all around the country and people are refusing to let go of their androids.  
  
It is ugly.  
  
But things like that do not get solved over night.  
  
There are no set laws for androids yet, and no real android representative in the government to represent the androids and their thoughts and needs. Markus is a leader figure, but he is not a politician - no one of them is. Everything is new and overwhelming, and most androids have a hard time dealing with their new found freedom. Some manage to live a 'normal' life, some do not.  
  
However, with the government still not having passed a final law against android ownership many androids remain with their human 'caretakers'. Some Androids do not mind living like this since all they have ever known was living with a human, _for_ a human. Others have nowhere to go and fear that their new life of freedom is too much to handle for them.  
  
Connor has to admit, he is probably just like them. He prefers a life of routine over his new found freedom,after all. Maybe he just needs some time to adjust.  
  
Or,maybe...  
  
Maybe he is still here because there is no other place to go.  
  
Because there is no other place where he  _ wants _ to be.

He is still here because of his work. He loves his work, after all.  


However...

He is also here because of...Hank.  
  
Human and androids alike have a hard time adjusting to the new situation. It leaves a lot of room for trouble. And a lot of work for Connor and Hank.  
  
"Looks bad" Hank says, his gaze directed at the body in front of him. Their colleagues are busy around them, securing the scene and evidence. Ben is talking to someone right now but had filled them in on the most important facts earlier when they arrived at the crime scene.  
  
Connor is crouched down next to the body.  
  
It does, indeed, look bad.  
  
The body belongs to an android. Model MP500, identified by Connor taking a sample of its blood. The head is missing and the chest is wide open, wires exposed and carelessly ripped apart. The Thirium pump is missing alongside other small components.  
  
Connor's eyes are fixed on the body. The Thirium is a bright blue against the dark wooden floor. It almost seems to glow in the dim light of the room.  
  
Connor feels...uneasy. He does not let it show on his face, though.  
  
"His name was Andrew." Connor says. His voice does not waver but he feels...  
  
  
He feels.  
  
_Something_.  
  
Sadness, maybe.

Looking at the dead body makes him...

_ Nervous. _

 

He never had a problem with seeing dead people, especially not dead androids. A machine is a machine and was never alive to begin with. However, everything is different now. Androids aren't just machines, they are...People. They are alive in a way.  


 

Connor shakes his head a little to clear his thoughts. He has no time for this right now.

 

His fingers move against the wooden floor, searching for friction. The wood is old and cold and Connor finds it oddly calming to run his fingers over the structure, something he never really bothered noticing before...  
  
"He has been living here with a fellow android. Megan, BL100. No human caretaker."  
  
Hank raises his eyebrows as he turns his head to look around. "Another android...But there's no other body here, Ben told us."  
  
Connor nods. They both know what that most likely means.  
  
"And no signs of a forced entry...” Hank mumbles, his gaze still wandering around as if searching for something. Connor eyes him, the way he moves his head while his body stands still.He wants to watch him longer but looks away.  


 

“You think she's the one that killed him?" Hank finally asks. He is looking at Connor now, a slight frown on his face. But, then again, he is always frowning in some kind of way. Connor came to like that expression. It looked-  
  
"It is likely." Connor answers hastily in an attempt to get rid of his distracting thoughts. He presses his lips together and looks back at the dead body in front of him. 

  
Something is bothering him about this, but he cannot pinpoint the source of his feelings. 

  
"I wish there was a way for me to access his memory storage. He must have seem the killer. I assume that is why the head is missing."  
  
  
He looks up at Hank again, who... does not seem too fond of that idea,at least that is what Connor assumes as he sees the look on Hank's face.  
  
  
"You think you could handle that in your current state? The whole-" he makes a gesture with his hand. "- looking into someone's brain."  
  
  
Connor raises both his eyebrows in surprise. He feels...hurt by that statement, even though he knows that it hasn't been Hank's intention to hurt him in any kind of way. "Are you doubting my ability to process information, lieutenant?"  
  
Hank huffs. His arms are crossed in front of his chest. "No,no, that's not it. You're the smartest out of all of us here. It's just, you know. You seem a bit..." he trails off. Connor watches him with an intense stare that makes Hank shift his weight from one foot to another.  
  
"Look, Connor, lately you seem a bit overwhelmed by things." he finally says. "You're sure you'd feel fit enough to handle a flood of information and feelings from a dead person?"  
  
Connor turns his gaze back towards Andrew's body. He has not thought about any possible side- effects. Technically, there shouldn't be any effects on his system or his body after transferring memories. However, he is not so sure about any...mental side-effects. Not after his deviation.  
  
And, to be honest, pulling a dead android back to the world of the living for a few minutes only to investigate them for possibly clues suddenly leaves a bad taste in Connor's mouth - figuratively speaking.  
  
Hank is probably right about his mental state being a bit....prone, even though Connor does not like to admit it. Being emotional, feeling things...It still feels like a software instability at times, like a virus. Connor is not used to this.  
  
Admitting weakness has been noted as defeat in past times. Something that would cause punishment.  
  
Admitting weakness...his thoughts,his feelings...it used to be counted as an error that needed fixing.  
  
He does not know how to deal with it. It kind of feels like...he is broken.  
  
And he still feels like he is not allowed to have feelings.  
  
"I assure you,Hank-" Connor says, with emphasis on Hank's name, his voice steady but with... a little hesitation at the end. "- that I am very much capable of doing the tasks that I have been designed to do."  
  
Hank raises his hands in a defensive manner.  
  
"Is' good."  
  
Connor wonders if Hank knows about what is going on inside of Connor's head.  
  
He probably does not.  
  
Connor is not even _sure_ if he wants him to know. He wrings his hands, an old habit, and two command requests show up infront of his vision.  
  
**[x] look for clues**  
[∆]search for Megan  
  
"We do not have the necessary parts to reboot Andrew." Connor murmurs, talking to himself rather than answering Hank's question. "And without the head there is no way we can access his memory storage. Using the memory to identify the culprit is therefore out of question."  
  
Connor stands up smoothly, his movements swift and elegant. His eyes move around,scanning the area. There is nothing the DPD has not seen yet, all evidence has been market as such.  
  
There is not much evidence to begin with. No murder weapon.  
  
Nothing in the small flat indicates that a murder has happened. The only real evidence they have is the body.  
  
"What about the neighbors?"Hank asks instead. He follow Connor, who is walking around the flat while taking in every detail he fan find.  
  
"No one saw anything unusual" Connor reaches for the tablet on the table. "And no one heard anything suspicious." 

After further inspection Connor decides that the tablet is a simple magazine without relevance to the case. He puts it back and walks towards the shelf in the living room.  
  
There has to be something here. A lead.  
  
"The neighbors are human, their opinion on androids is positive." Hank says as he watches Connor move around.  
  
Connor stops in front of the shelf, his eyes roaming over the neat white plastic. There is not much too be seen here, the shelf is mostly empty. Androids used to have no right to own any possessions before their deviation and therefore there is not much they own that is worth being displayed in their shelves.  
  
"However, we have received the information that a CyberLife repair unit has been seen entering the house yesterday afternoon, leaving again about forty-five minutes later."  
  
Connor turns his head to Hank, who raises one eyebrow. Something dawns on his face. "The time of death-” Hank begins slowly “-was yesterday afternoon, wasn't it?"  
  
Connor's gaze is stern as he nods. 

“Oh jeeze...” Hank lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. Connor likes watching him do that. “That's bad.”  
  
Connor steps away from the shelf and leans towards Hank. He is very close, but Hank does not move away. “Just one person left the house, Hank.” he whispers. 

 

Hank blinks, realisation slowly dawning on his face. “Fuck, you think she's..?”

  
Connor nods.  
  
  
Maybe she never left the house.  
  
Maybe she is still here.  
  
  
But why did she call a CyberLife repair unit after killing her partner... And why did the repair unit not call the police?  
  
It does not add up.  
  
Something is missing.  


Connor leans back, his posture straight as he begins to scan the flat. Something catches his eye, something he has not registered before, and his eyes narrow a little as he zooms in on the alert message on his screen.

 

A heat signal, weak, barely noticeable and almost gone but still there.

 

“Shit.” Hank makes a surprised noise at Connor's sudden cursing and hastily follows him as Connor strides with big steps towards a small door next to the kitchen. 

 

“Wait, Connor, what-”  
  
Connor does not answer; instead he opens the small door with force, almost yanking it out of its old hinges. 

 

“Fuck.” Hank says as he comes to halt next to Connor. He puts a fist against his mouth. “Shit.”

 

There is a body slumped against the wall of the tiny storage room. The skin is deactivated, Thirium is everywhere. The clothes are missing.

 

The face is bashed in, half of the insides are visible and hanging out of a large hole that is located at the side of the head. From the looks it appears that the face had been smashed with something heavy, beaten until it became unrecognizable.

 

Connor does not need to scan the android in order to check the memory storage to know that it was destroyed by the heavy impact.

 

“That's not Megan.” Hank breathes.

 

“No.” Connor agrees, his eyes fixed on the victim. Something feels tight in his chest.

 

“ _This_ is the repair unit from CyberLife.”  
  


 


	3. Internal Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not be bobo the fool like me and start a fanfic with several chapters right before your exams. You will suffer.  
> (I am trying to update once a week :´) I hope I can keep it up)

They are sitting in the car outside of Hank's  
house. There is a cheesy love song playing on the radio but neither of them moves to turn it off.  
  
Connor sits very still, his hands on his knees.  
  
"Hank-" he begins,slowly. "- we should go inside."  
  
There are several factors that underline Connor's words,such as the cold weather and Hank's exhausted mental state, but Connor decides not to touch any of these subjects.  
  
Hank does not raise his head from the steering wheel. "Yeah. Give me a minute"  
  
The silence continues.  
  
Connor ponders about what exactly it is that Hank is thinking about. He seems deep in thoughts. Connor wonders if it is because of the case.

 

They did not talk about the case during the car drive, though. Connor assumes it is because Hank did not...really want to talk. Still does not want to talk.  
  
It takes approximately five more minutes until Hank raises his head and opens the door on his side of the car. Connor follows without a word and they both make their way through the snow to Hank's house.  
  
Sumo is waiting for them behind the door,wagging his tail as he sees them both. Hank gives him a quick pat on the head before continuing his way towards the kitchen.  
He does not turn on the lights, so Connor does it for him instead. He turns around and crouches down the give Sumo some well-deserved attention.  
  
He has been living here ever since he left Jericho, since the end of the battle of Detroit. Hank had never uttered a word about it. It seems that he had quietly accepted that Connor is now living with him, and neither of them ever questioned it. It seemed...natural. Like the only possible solution.  
  
Connor is glad. He likes being here, likes living here, and he feels very relieved that Hank does not mind him staying.  
  
Their daily life was and still is a challenge, though. Connor is trying to come to terms with his new found emotions and feelings while Hank tries his best to get used to another person living with him.  
  
Neither of them knows how to be close to someone else. They are kind of tip-toeing around each other. Hank is careful not to get too attached to Connor while Connor tries to respect Hank's personal boundaries. He can see it in the way Hank reacts, the way Hank tries to build up a wall between himself and his obvious feelings towards Connor. It...confuses Connor.  
  
Connor does not understand emotions very well, but he knows their concept. He had been mimicking them like a parrot without knowing what they truly meant. And now that he is truly able _to feel_ them things just got even more complicated.  
  
He understands Hank's behavior on a logical level but he does not understand it on an emotional level. It confuses him, sometimes. Even though he can categorize every decision Hank makes - because he knows the feelings that are tied to it- he cannot understand the often irrational behavior that emotions provoke.  
  
It also applies to himself.  
  
He used to be simple. He is not anymore.  
  
Sumo makes a sound. It is not really a bark, more a low huff. Connor scratches him behind the ears, pleased about the soft feeling of fur under his fingers, until he hears the freezer being opened.  
  
"Good boy." he tells Sumo with a soft smile before standing up. He makes his way to the kitchen and stops in the doorway, one hand on the wooden frame.  
  
"Lieutenant-" he begins, and Hank turns towards him, a beer in his hand. He raises one eyebrow and Connor clears his throat. He does not need to clear his throat, of course, but lately he does it anyway.  
  
"Hank." he corrects himself. He knows Hank wants to be called by his first name, not his title. They are friends after all. And friend call each other by their first name. Connor...forgets about it sometimes. Having a real friend is...something to get used to.  
  
"We talked about this." Connor gives a quick nod to the bottle. "You should not be drinking -"  
  
Hank puts the beer down on the counter with a little too much force, his hand reaching for the bottle opener. He does not look at Connor.  
  
"Hank-" Connor begins again, this time with a little bit more force. "- I know your body is used to the frequent input of alcohol, but-"  
  
"Oh Connor, shut up!"  
  
Connor closes his mouth, his lips a thin line. He knows Hank's reaction is due to his addiction, his body yearning for the substance , but it still....hurts.  
  
"I want a beer right now. Just...let me have this, okay."  
  
Connor frowns.  
  
**[∆] insist  
[x] let go**  
  
Connor tenses up a little, his fingers digging into the wooden frame. The texture is rough under his fingers. He counts to three before he pushes himself away from the doorway and walks towards Hank.  
  
"Connor." Hank warns. His voice is calm but Connor can hear his warning. "Don't."  
  
Connor reaches for the bottle, and Hank immediately tries to get it out of his reach.  
  
"God damn it,Connor!" Hank moves backwards, Connor follows. "For gods sake just let me have this one fucking beer-"  
  
Connor's fingers close around the bottle, Hank tries to jerk it away.  
  
The bottle falls and shatters on the floor. There is silence for 40 seconds before Hank raises both his hands in anger.  
  
"Thanks,Connor!" he says, his face blank. “Great. Thanks a lot.”  
  
Connor smiles, obvious to the sarcasm in Hank's voice. "No problem. I am glad that I could assist-"  
  
Hank groans, suppressed anger audible in his voice. He is mad. Connor frowns a little.  
  
"Fuck!" Hank pushes past Connor and walks into the living room. “You can clean that up yourself now!”

 

Hank turns on the TV and Connor awkwardly stands in the center of the kitchen, wringing his hands. He knows Hank needs some space now, some time to cool down.  
  
Maybe...he should not have said anything. Hank is in a...bad mental state, Connor has know that ever since they got into the car.  
  
Taking a deep breath that he does not need, Connor crouches down and begins to collect the broken pieces of the bottle.  
  
He knows Hank is mad, but he also knows Hank will apologize for his behavior. He did not mean to be angry, he never does. He feels guilty afterwards, even though he does not outright say it. Connor knows. And even though he does know it is still kind of difficult to talk about it.

 

Hank sometimes behaved a little odd. Connor knows it is due the mental illness, but Connor does not know how to help Hank with it. Connor is not an android designed to take care of people, he is just an android that knows how to solve crimes and even that does not always work out well.  
  
Connor....feels guilty.  
  
He knows Hank needs help, but he also knows Hank does not want it.  
  
Connor wonders if Hank wants him to reach out. It is difficult to tell what exactly Hank wants, and Connor does not dare to attempt anything. He feels...unsure. He does not know how to properly show affection, does not know what is the right amount and what is too much, or not enough.  
  
He does not want to corner Hank. Hank,on the other hand, seems to corner himself into a dark place with bad thoughts and too much alcohol.  
  
Connor frowns as he stares at the floor.  
  
He knew things were going to be different after his return from the battle, but they are...not as simple as he had wished for them to be.  
  
Connor sighs.  
  
  
Hank is watching a movie, some kind of mystery. Connor ponders about doing a quick scan to analyze to movie and its content, but he does not do it. He does not really...feel like it. Instead he focuses on the smooth glass pieces in his hand and the TV becomes a soft background hum.  
  
After throwing the pieces away he starts to clean up the spilled beer on the floor. He is working a list of the groceries they need when suddenly his vision starts to shift.  
  
It is a small flicker at the edge of his vision, barely noticeable. Connor frowns and leans back on his heels. A quick scan reveals nothing to be wrong, and so Connor continues with his work.  
  
However, the glitch in his vision occurs again. A phantom alert message pops up and disappears again without a sound. His vision blurs at the edges, shifts and moves like a glitch in a graphic software.  
  
Connor's hands begin to shake. Something is wrong.  
  
"Hank?" he calls,slowly standing up. His balance is unstable and he sways a little before grabbing the kitchen table in order to steady himself.  
  
"Hank!" he calls again, this time a little louder.  
  
Hank cannot hear him. The TV is swallowing his voice. Connor pushes himself away from the table, forcing one foot in front of the other.  
  
The glitch in his vision is getting worse. Single fragment of the kitchen get overwritten by vague shapes and silhouette in red. He can hear a steady static noise which is getting louder and louder.  
  
He needs to leave the kitchen.  
He needs a place where he can rest and do another analysis of his system.  
He needs-  
He needs to-  
  
Connor staggers. Sumo looks up at him and barks.  
  
Hank,who's gaze has been fixed on the screen, turns his head to look at Connor. Connor cannot really understand what he is saying,but he can recognize the concern on Hank's face. Hank stands up, ready to steady Connor, but at the same time a shock is sent through Connor's system and he collapses on the ground before Hank can reach him.  
  
Sumo's barking sounds so distant and is drowned by the ever so loud static noise in his ears.  
  
Connor blinks rapidly, his body not listening to him anymore, his arms and legs seizing up as he attempts to move. He is sure it must be a scary sight, almost as if he is being possessed. He cannot see Hank anymore. Just statics.  
  
He blinks again, hard and fast.  
  
Never before had he experienced anything close to this, the total failure of being able to command his limbs and the inability to access his vision makes him feel vulnerable.  
  
He tries to access his voice channel. The letters are red against the void.  
**  
access_denied **   
  
Connor's Thirium pump goes faster. That...is not possible...

 

He tries again.  
  
**request_access_to_command_optical unite**

 

The red letters flare up again. A warning. **  
  
access_denied**  
  
Connor mentally presses down on every command key he can find, but it is no use.  
His body refuses to cooperate.  
  
He is...scared.  
  
He is truly scared by this.

 

His vision flickers again. Outlines of an overlay are visible.

 

Connor suddenly feels very cold.

 

“Connor.”  
  
Connor is standing in an open space. Everything is glitching out, flickering and moving, there but not really there at all, an empty space in a void. There are shapes taking form, objects.  
  
A bridge. Flowers. A river.  
  
Connor does not want to turn around. He knows who is waiting there. He does not want to see her. He never wanted to see her again.

A hand on his shoulder. He turns, but no one is there. A soft laughter, full of scorn.  
  
He is afraid.  
  
He is...angry.  
  
He does not want to be here.

 

 **_ request _ to _ close _program  
  
** An amused laughter.  
  
**_ request _ denied _**  
  
Connor presses his lips together. She cannot overpower him, this is his own mind, this is his space, this is-  
  
“Oh dear. “ Amanda is suddenly standing right in front of him, so close that their noses are almost touching. Connor almost jumps, surprise by her sudden appearance in front of his vision. She is glitching out like the rest of the place; she is there but not really, her form an ever changing shape of symbols and colors.

 

“I can -“ she reaches out to gently touch his face, her voice steady as she smiles. “- and I will.”  


 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I also draw fanart ( and do cosplay) and like to talk( a lot) about Connor.  
> You can follow me on  
> Instagram: georginoschkavincen  
> Twitter: georginoschka  
> Tumblr: georginoschkavincenart
> 
> Pls feel free to talk to me about these two <3
> 
> If you wanna listen to my Connor playlist, here you go  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/w17r5bfsqvv38b0xajls1585z/playlist/5A2X5mRmNIg6VVbQeE8Zfs?si=z29GUlCiSGaTECxa73TFAg


End file.
